


A Sanctuary Safe And Strong

by Moransroar



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Credence Barebone Gets a Hug, Credence Barebone Lives, Fluff, Gellert Grindelwald Never Impersonated Percival Graves, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Movie(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 12:03:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11290350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moransroar/pseuds/Moransroar
Summary: He remembered clearly how Mister Scamander had once compared Credence to the Mooncalves he looked after, and in moments like these when Percival held Credence and the boy completely melted, he could see exactly what Newt meant.





	A Sanctuary Safe And Strong

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever fic in the Fantastic Beasts universe please be gentle with me. Kudos and comments very much appreciated. Thank you!

It had been a few months since Credence had moved into what would be his new home, and Percival liked to think that the boy had acclimated to his new surroundings very well. Without the threat of Grindelwald lurking in the shadows as he had been locked up those few months prior, and without his mother beating him, Credence was a much calmer man. So much so, in fact, that Graves didn’t notice at first how the boy would stay up until late, huddled by the fire in their shared sitting room.

Percival sat up in bed and glanced in the direction of his door. Something had woken him up, though now he wasn’t so sure what it did seem like that was a good thing. Credence had been making magnificent progress in gaining a bit of weight and looking much healthier, though the dark rings around his eyes never quite ceased to exist. To Graves’ knowledge, the boy ate well, slept well, and got outside regularly – and still he seemed exhausted every day.

When Percival stood from his bed and silently stepped towards the door to open it and duck his head out, he could see the flickering of the flames in the fireplace reflect against the wall opposite the open door that lead into the living room. He was sure that he had extinguished the fire that night, so naturally he was drawn to the source of the orange light in the hallway. What he found when he rounded the corner, was Credence sitting cross-legged in front of the fire, eyes closed, as if he was warming himself to the flames. Percival rested a hand against the wooden doorframe and watched the boy for a moment, brows knitted together as he was trying to figure out what Credence might be doing exactly. If this was a habit of his, however, then Graves wasn’t surprised that the dark shadows under Credence’s eyes never faded. No wonder, if he got so little sleep.

Graves stepped away from the doorframe after a moment to get closer to Credence, who either didn’t hear him come in or was ignoring his presence. It was warm in the room, thanks to the fire, but there was no peculiar smell so the older man wasn’t worried that Credence had been burning things in the fire. So he’d just been enjoying the flames. Perhaps that was it.

“You need to sleep more, Credence,” Percival said, his voice still especially low with sleep. He reached out when he was near enough to slip his fingers into the hairs at the back of Credence’s head. His haircut hadn’t changed in those months aside from the fact that the boy’s hair had grown a little. Percival would never understand why Credence chose to have it in this style – something that surely reminded him of everything that had happened. Still, at the same time, Percival wouldn’t change the other for the world.

Credence tilted his head up and opened his eyes to look up at the other. He looked apologetic already, and even before he spoke, Graves already knew what he was going to say.

“I’m sorry, sir,” he said, and earned a small smirk from the man towering over him.

Graves shook his head and knelt next to Credence, his hand still in the boy’s hair and smoothing to the other side of his head. Credence’s eyes drooped briefly before he seemed to regain his composure and looked down instead of meeting Graves’ eye.

“Don’t be,” Graves said, “Tell me what’s bothering you.”

Percival hadn’t expected Credence to actually open up about that, because though it had been a while, it still seemed difficult for the other to do so. They talked, yes, but they talked about mundane things. They talked about the weather every now and then, and they talked about Scamander’s creatures a little whenever Credence had visited the man, but when there was something truly important, Credence simply seemed to close up. And Graves, admittedly, knew not what to do about that other than stay patient, but even patience wasn’t getting him far with Credence anymore.

He’d still made process, though. They had, together. Graves wasn’t going to forget that, but it still pained him to see Credence shy away from telling him exactly what was on his mind. Sure, a person who had been beaten for doing far less than that wouldn’t be easy to open up about anything – he had realised that long ago – but it would just be nice to know for once what he might be able to do for Credence. Something that would actually help him. At this point, Percival would do pretty much anything at all. Not that he would admit that aloud all that easily.

“I just can’t sleep. I’m sorry I rekindled the fire, sir,” Credence said, and he looked impossibly apologetic, but Graves wasn’t having it. He shook his head and slided his hand back from the back of Credence’s head to his cheek to make him look at him. Graves studied the boy’s face and found that he looked tired still, but not his usual pale, courtesy of the warm light from the flames to his left. The usually hard lines of Credence’s face were softer, and Graves traced his jaw with his thumb, from the boy’s chin to the curve by his ear.

He gave him a small smile. Patience, he told himself. The boy doesn’t know any differently.

Graves sighed softly. “You need to start realising that you are a human being capable of making his own decisions, Credence. You wanted to sit by the fire, so you lay a fire. It’s fine.”

Credence almost immediately started to protest, “But I should have asked—”

“Credence,” Graves interrupted clearly, “You are not a child and I will not treat you as such, so you should not behave as one.”

The boy leaned away from the touch of Graves’ hand to avoid his eyes, and that wasn’t what Percival had aimed for. His other hand joined the first on Credence’s opposite cheek and he tilted the boy’s chin once more to look at him again. Both his thumbs resumed their caressing of the soft, pale skin over Credence’s cheekbones. The boy’s eyes were a bit glassy. Graves didn’t think he could bear to see the boy cry, but clearly something was troubling him. Percival decided to pull the boy close, because what else could he do? He remembered clearly how Mister Scamander had once compared Credence to the Mooncalves he looked after, and in moments like these when Percival held Credence and the boy completely melted, he could see exactly what Newt meant.

Graves smoothed a hand down Credence’s spine and _felt_ how the tension escaped his body wherever his hands went. Maybe this was indeed exactly what the other needed sometime. Graves could have known by the way he’d seen the boy change in his presence and how he’d seen him change with every touch.

Now, there was not something that Percival could come up with at that moment, but he had an idea of just how exhausted Credence was from all the sleep he lost because of whatever plagued him. If this was what a simple touch did to him, then wouldn’t that be the first step to getting Credence to sleep through the night for a change?

“Let’s get you to bed,” he said then. He was just going to go for the idea. He was gentle when he pushed Credence back away from him, and though the expression on the other’s face when they parted was heart-breaking, he was not going to stop now in favour of comforting him right this moment. Graves held out his hand and helped Credence to his feet, and with a hand on the small of the boy’s back, he lead him through the open door into the significantly colder hallway and then down to Credence’s bedroom. When the latter hesitated in the doorframe, Percival knew not what to expect. Credence seemed so reluctant to even step inside of the room that it made Percival hesitate, too.

He asked Credence what the matter was, to which he lifted his face to Graves and visibly swallowed. “It’s very cold in here, sir. I was never good at sleeping in such cold.”

Admittedly, Credence’s room was the only room in the house without a fireplace, save from the bathroom of course. It also explained why Credence would favour lingering in the sitting room until he was most likely too tired to stay awake, and then the cold must not faze him as much. Graves could have thought about this sooner, and he reprimanded himself for it.

“Then tonight, you shall sleep in my room,” Graves promised with a small smile. Credence was pliant against Graves’ expectations when he steered him to the next door instead. Inside, though the fire was already out, the coals were still smouldering nicely, and the room was indeed much warmer than the rest of the house by now. Percival could have known, what with the raging cold outside. He should have come up with this sooner, but reprimanding himself was of no use now.

Percival lead Credence right to where he’d folded back the covers to get out of the bed only minutes before, and Credence sat down obediently.

“But where will you sleep, sir?” He asked Graves, to which the older man paused, then shrugged and proceeded to help Credence under the covers.

“I will find myself a spot somewhere. Don’t you worry about me. Make sure that you get a good night’s sleep, my boy. Don’t forget that you are going to be with Mister Scamander again tomorrow.”

But Credence didn’t seem exactly satisfied with that answer. Really, Graves didn’t mind the thought of sleeping in the cold for one night until he found out a way to keep Credence’s room as warm as his own. Either he would make adjustments to his home, or he’d find a spell that would provide a source of warmth. Their sleeping arrangements would be back to normal the next night.

Credence wrestled one arm free from where he’d tucked it under the blanket, and he reached for Percival, grabbing the sleeve of his sleep shirt.

“You could… You could sleep here tonight, too, sir,” he murmured, and his voice was hesitant, and of course Credence avoided his eyes next. He retreated his hand, too, and settled back. Graves could see that he’d made his point, and that he was now leaving the decision to him. And truthfully? It didn’t seem like a bad idea at all. That way, even if the last warmth of the remnants of the fire dissipated during the night, they would still not be cold. They would have a different source of warmth. It didn’t seem unpleasant at all.

So Percival stood. For a moment, he thought that he saw disappointment flash across Credence’s face, but it was gone less than a second later. Instead of stepping out of the room, however, Percival rounded the bed to the other side and folded the covers back.

“That is not a bad idea at all, Credence. Good thinking,” Graves said as he slid between the covers.

They both settled looking up at the ceiling, but minutes later they found themselves with their cheeks pressed into their pillows, blinking at each other. They didn’t say much, or anything at all. Credence was finding it harder and harder to keep his eyes open, and Graves enjoyed watching them droop, and watching the boy relax under the covers. He couldn’t resist reaching up to brush his fingertips down the curve of Credence’s jaw, and when the other’s lips parted for a quiet sigh, he couldn’t resist continuing the path of his thumb over his soft bottom lip.

Credence’s eyes fluttered open again. The room was only dimly lit, but Graves could see Credence more clearly than anything else in the room.

“Sir…” Credence began, but trailed off.

Graves hummed in acknowledgement.

“Would you be terribly opposed to…to holding me?”

Graves lifted his eyes to meet Credence’s. That was positively the most direct request he had ever gotten from the boy. He hadn’t know that he’d had it in him, honestly. But just like before, Percival was very much obliged to tend to Credence’s every need, and before he could really think about it he’d opened his arms for the boy, and only moments after he found himself with his nose pressed into Credence’s dark hair and his arms wrapped around the other’s slender body. Credence had nestled himself against Graves’ chest, face tucked under Graves’ chin, breathing against his sternum.

Percival had never been as comfortable in his own bed as right then.

He pressed a kiss to the top of the boy’s head and felt the other sigh against his skin.

“Sleep, Credence,” he whispered to him, but the gentle suggestion was redundant.

Credence had already fallen asleep, and Percival had never seen him more peaceful.

He decided, right there, that new sleeping arrangements would be made. Yes. But why would they make adjustments to Credence’s bedroom when the boy could sleep right there, in Percival’s arms, every single night from that night on?


End file.
